The Vile Peaks
by nicochii
Summary: Their worlds were falling apart. Surrounded by rubbish in a foreign land so close to home, only memories pose as a threat to the trained soldier. Rated T for slight mention of gruesome acts.


Clanging of guns against armor resounded throughout the strange mountains of debris, their muffled shouts echoing eerily in the barren wasteland. The soldier tutted as she turned sharply about-face, grabbing the teen by his collar and hoisting him from where he fell, the earth-if it could be called that-now etched with their presence. With the speed and ferocity that she was trained for, she kicked at the mark to smooth it, using the momentum to thrust the teen forward. He stumbled, and dared to make a noise, but to her gratitude refrained.

Returning to her original path, she roughly gripped the boy's upper arm as she ushered him with body language alone, her face stern, masking the turmoil of emotions beneath her visage. Things would be far easier if this runt hadn't chosen to follow her like a puppy too useless to even follow her by leash. Maker be damned of she had to carry him like one.

Ears twitching at the slight noise, she reached out and snagged the orange cape on the boy's jacket, pulling him haphazardously backwards into herself, coiling around a pile of rubbish, and pulling him down with herself, pressing both bodies as far back into the shadows as possible. As the PSICOM troops grew closer, the soldier pulled the teen further into her chest, arms locked in a death grip around him. Trained eyes peered without her body moving, completely focused on the enemy-

Was that rain? The soldier dared to glance upwards, the sky cloudy and dim, but no sign of showers. She grit her teeth in frustration; a downpour would have made it easier to slip past them. The sound of the rain thundering down, the limited vision-

There it was again! Only this time it startled the soldier, eliciting a slight jerk as she was not expecting it. Only when she began to relax after determining the PSICOM troops had passed by did she realize something vital; the boy was shaking. Profusely. Shaking, but not outright hysterically sobbing. More drops on her arm, only this time she knew the cause. She set her mouth in a tight line, relinquishing her grasp as the soldier hoisted them both up slowly. Making a point not to look at the boy in this state, she turned away from him, moving forwards. Before covering much ground, she looked back over her right shoulder slightly.

"Come on. They're not going to stop looking until every last one of us is dead."

Something made her heart pang as the adolescent sucked in a deep, spit-filled breath, his footsteps clumsy as he rubbed the tears from his eyes, reaching out towards her back. '_Desperate for comforting words; "It'll all be okay."'_

The soldier clenched her eyes, biting back the guilt as she stepped out of arm's reach. "Hurry up," before picking up a steady jog, not once turning back to the boy.

They had managed to level a small squadron of PSICOM soldiers, but they could not yet rest here. They pushed onwards, the skin under their eyes darkening with the fatigue of battle and endless wandering. The soldier looked back at the teen, his face that of an empty shell, skin red and emotions exhausted completely.

The soldier turned away in shame. He was too young for this; how would this affect him later on in his life? They trudged up a slight hill, finding a nice, deep alcove with plenty of nooks and crannies to push into should the need arise. The woman cast a sidelong glance at the boy, "We'll rest here." it was spoken too softly, almost like a whisper, but the boy nodded, eyes overshadowed as he passed by her without acknowledgement, settling against some debris with a heavy sigh.

It took only a few minutes before his shallow, even breathing took hold of the atmosphere. The soldier had feigned keeping watch until now; she had overheard a squad discussing a large man being abducted by a Calvary ship, and would no doubt spend the night in political conflict over who the man-Snow, she reminded herself-should be handed over to. The woman allowed herself to relax as she lowered herself to the ground, nevertheless keeping her weapon by her side. It was the only thing that made her feel truly safe out here.

With that thought, the young boy mumbled in his sleep, drawing her attention. ".. Mom?"

Her whole body flashed with hot ice, her heart fluttering over a beat, her blood running cold. She had forgotten; not only had this boy been turned Pulse l'Cie, dragged around a wasteland and forced to both kill and flee continuous lethal pursuers, but he had also watched his mother fall to her death some hours beforehand. She gripped her gun blade harder, willing the heat in her eyes to fade. It wasn't that she hadn't heard tearful stories before; children torn in half by monsters just beyond the Bodhum security line, women and men both raped and slaughtered, grotesque mutilations. No, it was how hard and close to home it hit. Looking at this boy now, nearly emotionally crippled, physically fighting to continue living; he had it worse than she did.

When Claire lost her parents, she was at a loss; devastated. She would have succumbed to despair, given up all hope and spent her life condemning the Maker's cruel ways, damning the Fal'Cie and all who believed in their justification.

But Serah was worse. She was so young, a girl barely a teen, one who had not yet tasted the harsh reality that is life. And there she was, sitting next to her older sister at the Bodhum Guardian Corps. Headquarters, the death of their parents sinking oh so slowly in. She did not cry. She screeched. She flung papers. She beat the soldiers. She sobbed and wailed until she was nothing but a shaking mess, tears free-falling.

Claire wouldn't let her see the bodies. Serah had argued, had slapped her sister across the face, called her controlling. Claire held her gaze, face emotionless as she asked the soldiers to take her to another room, to get her some hot chocolate. Their parents hadn't been murdered. There wasn't anyone to blame for their deaths. They had died rather peacefully, leaving their bodies unscathed, preserved. Claire brought a shaky hand to her mother's cold face, biting back a wracking sob as she stroked the smooth, taut skin. She brushed the short hair from her father's forehead. She gave them both a kiss respectively, "Goodbye," and signed the cremation papers. As much as she believed they deserved tombstones and a plot with flowers, they simply didn't have the money.

When Claire emerged, Serah had calmed down. A soldier approached her. "What do you plan to do now?" Looking back to her sister, in that moment, it all came crashing down on her; she was their legal guardian. She had to protect them both. They had to survive this. Turning back to the soldier, she gave him a steady look in each eye before giving him her answer. "I'm joining the ranks."

But Hope didn't have that. There weren't any government officials looking out for him. They instead were hunting him. He had no younger family to be strong for. There was no motivation to keep him moving forward, to keep him living. The only people he had now were the l'Cie. The only person he had was her. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Wasn't there more reason behind her decision to join the Guardian Corps.? People weren't supposed to suffer like this, not anymore, not if she could help it.

"Lightning..?"

The woman snapped her attention to him, desperately willing the pain away. The boy was still sleeping, yet her heart would not stop pounding. _'I should scout for PSICOM.' _She got up from where she was sitting, body shaky with fatigue._ 'I should set out a perimeter.' _Her feet dragged herself forwards._ 'I can't let them find us.' _She knelt on the ground._ 'I can't.' _Her face contorted as she pulled him into her lap, cradling his head against her chest, cheek on his forehead. She clenched her eyes shut, mouth skewed downwards. _'I can't let him become me.'_

A tear splashed off his cheek, failing to disrupt his far off nightmare somewhere within himself.

"I won't let you."


End file.
